Fast Pond How

The house sat empty fourteen years A wasted crystal chandelier The lungs still howled a breathless air And corporate dust of laughing lairs He checked them in, the straw and clay Of ninety years of day by day Was my street sane? An image of The spark that stirs within them Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh I was fourteen, they bought the home Just old enough to stay alone The biggest chair, the smoky skin I sat like so and threw it in The floors that creak, the pipes that pound And underneath, one other sound An angry hum, a low heart rate That made me fear the stairs of Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh The void that's crowded with their fears Spills out into the present years Her tears upon the child at night And we say swift the daylight time Each year I grow, each day I think Of when I felt the breath of wings Above my chair, around my neck It wanted to devour me Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha Agatha (Agatha, Agatha, Agatha) Agatha (Agatha, Agatha, Agatha) Agatha (Agatha, Agatha, Agatha) Agatha (Agatha, Agatha, Agatha)

Chalked out visioned dreams drawn out by tiny prophet hands Yet worn out by time gets to the problem that I am Roadside clover patch, searching for the luck I lack Catch my eye as I untwine, only to find three smiling back Simply to be Clear to see The cement is spreading wide as the flowers push on through Causing webs of cracks to spread; what can a mother do? Residues of greens and blues smeared by the feet of day A child's work, a friendly wash, down to dull, flat greys Simply to be Clear to see I know I don't know much, but I stand without a crutch Shiny shards of broken glass lay down like a promise in the grass Found the perfect four; it takes a while You used to smile, you used to smile Come on fortune fish define; come and curl up in my hand As the tapestry that's weaved confers up all my plans Reading out the years into the rings of grain Now a stump, once a tree on which we carved our names